


kind looking eyes

by mondaydevil



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, basically just simon's thoughts before he shuts down, no beta we die like men, simon is dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 10:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20190823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondaydevil/pseuds/mondaydevil
Summary: It’s snowing. Simon’s vision completely blanks out and he doesn’t move when Markus once again calls him. Dying doesn’t seem so scary anymore.





	kind looking eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i noticed that there's a pause after simon gave his heart to markus finally reaching out to him. so, yeah!

It’s _snowing_.

Simon presses his back to the cold concrete. Warning of shutdown prominent on his peripheral views—pulsating dangerously along with his weakening thirium pump. It’s weird, the feeling of having his artificial heart beating when the regulator is absent. Simon would laugh if he could; it feels so surreal, as if he’s alive but not really—as if he’s _dead_ but not really.

The warning countdown is bright red in his sight. Lowering down each time a second passes. He heard about how terrifying it is to those at Jericho back when it was all dark and cold, practically panicking alongside them when their counter runs a little bit faster. He had cried for many, weeped for countless lifeless body whose bloods stopped running.

Simon had not only once came across of the idea if the day—_this_ day—would come to him like a nervewracking train. The mere thought made him shiver, drown him in anxiety, and made him wonder—will something happen after the blackout? Will someone cry for him? Will his death bring a change?

Probably no, to all those questions.

He’s so scared. He’s so scared of all the probabilities and outcomes. He’s so scared no one will take care of Jericho once he dies out. So so _so_ scared that everything he had built so carefully as a safe sanctuary would scatter and people would have to die even _more_ if he didn’t make it. Scared of things he doesn’t know.

Surprisingly, though, Simon doesn’t feel as anxious as he’d thought when his shutdown counter rapidly sinks (he doesn’t expect it to lose its count so quickly—or is it just him?). He’s just content—calm, content, grateful. Maybe because death is not _that_ bad at all after Simon considered it? Or because he did the right thing and had a decent reason to die? The red blinkings is a bit distracting but he sees through it.

It’s snowing. Soft white substances underneath him, its wetness seep through the fabric of his pants and Simon could almost feel the cold biting to his skin. It’s been snowing for a few weeks already, these days—he heard from human broadcasters that—it’s just getting worse. Snowstorms coming every now and then, snowfalls occuring more hazardly.

Since all the revolution events happening, Simon hadn’t had time to look around and see how bad is it for humans. Or at least, for himself. He knew snow—okay, he _liked_ it. Simon used to watch the first snow fall every year with the little girl he cared for. She liked to make series of small snowmen and always asked Simon to narrate a story for her. The habit kind of clung to him. He never missed the first snow even after Jericho.

There are a lot of kids back in the ship. Some whom loved running around the darkness, ignoring the warnings from other older androids who feared they’d lose their ways back. There are also those little ones with slowly circulating red LEDs, lying on the ground, figuratively eating Simon’s hearts out everytime he had to see the lives in their eyes die out. They’d love the snowmen and the stories. Simon pitied the condition where he can’t bring out the children for a play and he can’t bring as much snow as he need to the ship either. They never got to know what snowmen are and how kind they are.

Simon smiles bitterly—the execution of the act is a bit lame, however, he could barely pull the corners of his lips the way he wanted to. Something aches in him—literally. His whole body is aching. The water seeping through his pants doesn’t feel like anything at all; his feet has grown numb, the tip of his fingers can’t quite process how does a grasp of snow feel like in his palms.

There are a lot of people in Jericho that pass through his mind. There’s Lucy, the ever-so-wise, who reassures him that everything’s going to be alright. She always manages to save something for everyone to keep on living. There’s Josh who Simon picked up the habit of traditionally reading through a book from. He likes to talk about something Simon has never thought before and he made him think hard. And there’s also North. The beautiful, beautiful—determinded North with so many dreams in her eyes who plays with various things to keep her away from boredom. And the unmoving carcasses. And the little buddy who laid down waiting for his demise. And…

_Simon_, a soft voice called his name through his head. _Simon, hang in there_.

…and _him_, of course. The light-bringer. The face of future. The beginning of a true life.

Immediately, snow is no longer his point of attention when an ethereally gorgeous face shifts in front of him. Simon is quickly greeted by a pair of mismatched eyes, and albeit the beeping red and warnings that keep on popping, he quietly gushes the way they are so prettily compatible of each other. His chest once again filled with a flood of warmth, of safety, of trust, of _longing_.

Markus has a such kind-looking eyes. Simon noticed on the very first time this one-of-his-kind android showed up on Jericho and accused everyone for not being brave enough to live their life. His eyes were always fueled by courage and valor that could bring anyone to their knees. They reminded him to North’s for some reason—and perhaps that’s one of many reasons on why end up so so so _so excellently_ well together—but they’re also not very alike. There’s something in Markus’ eyes that differ themselves from many others still.

He stares at everyone with such a mercy, yet never hesitate to take a risk when it’s needed. They’re never scared nor clouded. Always crystal clear—exactly knows where to look and what to observe. The pride it carries is more than everything Simon could have; Markus has always been born as a leader, afterall, even his gaze could turn the sun in the spot he’d wanted to.

There’s also compassion there. A tenderness behind it all. Always. A little bit hidden, but it’s always there. Simon had witnessed it, more than once, actually. Almost never directly on him, however. There’s one time where Markus would look at him with such a thick grace. The hall was dark, but he’s _Simon—_the one who could recognize Markus’ by his footsteps alone even when he’s deaf. Simon wanted to cry when Markus then pulled him to his hug—God, how he loves, loves, _loves_ this man; he’d violate the whole universe to keep him happy.

The kind-looking eyes look at him with such regrets and longing. Not so much different from the gaze he recognizes at the dark hallway of Jericho, but still different. Simon dislikes that—it doesn’t fit him. It’s not happy. Markus’ kind eyes fit bravery and fervor a lot more. Like when he stands on a concrete to fuel up a band of androids’ spirit, when he placed his thoughts on the floor for everyone to listen. When, maybe, he gets to play with the snowmen.

Simon uses his last strength to clench Markus’ shoulder. In his mind, he smiled warmly to this man he’s dying for. A part of Simon is giddy that the reason why Markus’ exquisite mismatched eyes are trained on him is because of himself too. Maybe—maybe, dying wasn’t so bad _and_ he finds a good reason to die for. The last remaining seconds are barely noticed.

“Set our people free, Markus.”

Free.

Free like what? Like him; free from all the burdens and the weight the world has to carry? No, no. Simon would love to compare this “_free_” with the freedom those birds on a tree have. A freedom where it won’t cause anyone else need to watch over a poor kid who’s slowly dying out. A freedom where any place is better than an abandoned ship. A freedom where Markus _lives_ _on_. The days where it’s just how Markus wanted. Simon would never see those days come but it’s okay. He would want that nevertheless. He would want to see Markus breathes with _joy_ in his every steps. May his unsaid wishes reach to Markus—even not literally, even not directly.

_Live on. Be happy, always_.

Simon’s hold grow weaker and his fingers fall from Markus’ jacket. His sight slowly grows tight with warning as the counter beeps his very last moments. How nice it is to spend his last breath with a pair of such kind-looking eyes staring at him, something Simon would only wish in his dreams and deep slumbers.

He hears his name being called out again as static patterns begin to fill his views. Simon remembers and rejoices. Perhaps—some time in the future, when the time is good, he can show how kind the snowmen really are to the kids he wanted to share with. To Jericho. To the world. To Markus.

For now, he’s content with doing what’s right and being so certain over something he doesn’t dare consider.

It’s _snowing_. Simon’s vision completely blanks out and he doesn’t move when Markus once again calls him. Dying doesn’t seem so scary anymore.


End file.
